As soon as the professor dismissed the class, Finn turned around. "Ethan."
Ethan looked up. Finn slid a folded piece of paper across the desk. Ethan's eyes widened slightly.
The letter. I must have left it in these pants by accident. A quiet wave of relief washed over him; there was no way Finn could deduce what the letter meant. Ethan himself barely understood it.
But Finn's next words shattered that fleeting sense of comfort.
"Are you going to New Jersey, too?" Finn asked quietly.
Ethan kept his expression entirely blank. "What do you mean?"
"You know I'm dating a third-year, right?" Finn said, a faint, shy blush creeping up his neck. Ethan couldn't help but offer a small, reassuring smile at the guy's sheer innocence, nodding to prompt him forward.
Finn leaned in closer. "She told me that during her first few days after vacations, she was walking home and overheard a conversation coming from a parked car. They were talking about going to New Jersey... by boat. Something sketchy like that."
Ethan's posture stiffened. "Where exactly did she hear this?"
"She didn't say. She just told me to stay safe and stay far away from people like them," Finn admitted, shifting uncomfortably.
"Thanks for telling me," Ethan said, patting Finn's shoulder appreciatively.
As Finn turned back around, Ethan sank into his chair, staring at the desk. Who is the guy sending me these letters? he muttered under his breath. Before he could spiral deeper into the thought, the next instructor strode into the room, and the lecture began.
Halfway through the class, Ethan's gaze drifted toward the window. Suddenly, his focus locked.
Down on the campus grounds, Jake was sitting on a stone bench, forearms resting on his thighs, eyes closed. Standing directly in front of him were two men Ethan recognized instantly: Steve, and the masked boy.
Steve's phone rang, and he stepped away to take the call, leaving Jake motionless. A moment later, a girl began walking toward the masked boy, but before she could reach him, Ethan made his move. He abruptly stood up.
The instructor stopped mid-sentence, looking over. "Is there a problem, Ethan?"
"May I use the restroom, sir?"
With a brief nod of permission, Ethan walked calmly out of the classroom. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, he broke into a sprint.
By the time Ethan reached the courtyard garden, the girl was gone. He marched directly toward the bench, but the masked boy caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Ignoring everything else, the boy stepped forward, placing his body like a wall between Ethan and Jake.
"Jake," Ethan called out.
The masked boy didn't budge. He stood his ground, eyeing Ethan up and down with cold, silent hostility. Ethan took another step forward, but the masked boy raised a hand, gesturing sharply for him to stop.
Jake's eyes flicked open. He looked at Ethan, his expression unreadable. The masked boy was about to say something but someone else spoke first.
"Well, look what we have here. What's going on?" Steve asked, strolling back into the clearing with a grin. He pointed a finger at Ethan. "That's the strong kid from before."
"What are going here?" Steve said.
Ethan didn't blink. "You, Tell me. What are you doing here?"
Steve chuckled, walking right up to Ethan until they were entirely too close. "Kid, you might be tough, but you clearly don't know who I am."
Steve reached out, casually placing a hand toward Ethan's face. Ethan snapped his arm up, slapping Steve's hand away with a sharp crack.
Steve's grin vanished. "You're dead."
In a flash, Steve lunged forward, his thick fingers clamping around Ethan's throat, attempting to lift him clear off the ground. But Ethan didn't panic. Moving with practiced, fluid precision, he twisted his torso and delivered three brutal, rapid-fire kicks straight to Steve's face.
Steve tanked the blows, his head barely snapping back. A twisted smile returned to his face. "Kid, you really are something."
Steve threw a devastating right fist straight for Ethan's jaw. Ethan anticipated it—he deflected the punch with a high kick and immediately followed through, driving a brutal elbow directly into Steve's cheek.
Steve just smiled through the impact, tasting blood. "Your blows are heavy," he muttered.
Before Ethan could reset his stance, Steve retaliated with a lightning-fast punch to Ethan's chest. Ethan managed to cross both arms to block it, but the sheer force of the impact launched him backward. When his feet finally gripped the gravel, his forearms were shaking violently from the vibration.
He's a lot stronger than he looks, Ethan thought, his mind racing. Reminds me of him.
Steve walked forward, the thrill of the fight in his eyes. Ethan met him halfway. They stood chest-to-chest, muscles tensed, just a millisecond away from throwing down.
Then, a sharp throat-clearing cut through the tension.
Both Ethan and Steve froze, turning their heads toward the bench. Jake gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Steve sighed, his aggressive energy evaporating. He looked back at Jake, nodding in understanding. "His message will come soon. Then, I'll let you know."
Steve turned his attention back to Ethan. "What's your name, young man?"
"Ethan."
"I'm Steve. You're worth remembering," Steve said with a smirk, turning on his heel and walking away.
"Your reputation precedes you," Jake said, his voice quiet but commanding.
Ethan turned to face him, suddenly realizing the space was empty. He looked around. The masked boy was gone. "Where did he go?"
"I told him to leave," Jake replied.
"Why?"
"You came down here because you want to ask me something, right?" Jake looked up, meeting Ethan's gaze with piercing intensity. "So, I figured you wouldn't want an audience."
Ethan held his stare. "Jake. Tell me everything."